


hold onto me

by pennydrabbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, One Shot, Other, Reader Insert, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydrabbles/pseuds/pennydrabbles
Summary: Prompt: Imagine comforting Dean after he has a nightmare about you
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	hold onto me

Dean sat bolt upright in bed beside you, heaving giant breaths. You raised your head, bleary-eyed and fuzzy with sleep. 

Every bone in your body wanted to reach for him. But you knew that might be a bad idea right now. Even in the dark, you felt the tension rolling off of him. 

“Dean?” you whispered.

He flinched. His hand slid across the comforter, fingers searching, until he found your leg and squeezed. He bowed his head, releasing a low, shaky breath realizing you were beside him. 

Now that he’d made contact, you rested your hand against his back, his skin clammy and pebbled with goosebumps.

“What’s going on?” you said.

“Nightmare,” Dean rasped.

He never talked about any of his bad dreams and you didn’t push him. But you knew he needed a distraction. Food. Movies. A shower. Anything to get his mind focused on something else.

You started to roll over, reaching for the bedside lamp when Dean stopped you. His hand slid up to your hip, snaking his arm around your waist. When he laid down again, he was half on top of you, resting his head on your stomach, his face buried in your t-shirt.

You smoothed your hand down the back of Dean’s head, hooking your arm around his shoulder. You traced up and down his spine, his skin cooling beneath your touch.

A minute later, Dean spoke, his voice barely audible in the quiet dark.

“It was you.”

Your hand went still against his back. 

“Hellhounds,” he added. “Tore you apart right in front of me. I couldn’t get to you in time and you just…kept… _screaming_.”

You tightened your hold on Dean and kissed the top of his head.

“It was only a dream,” you said.

Dean said nothing, fingers clutched tight into your t-shirt. You could tell he was still lost in his head, replaying his nightmare over and over as if he could fix it, figure out what he did wrong.

You turned on the light, flooding the dark room with brightness that made you squint. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face into your torso even further.

You cupped his face in your hands with an insistent tug.

“Look at me,” you said.

Dean grumbled but propped himself up, his elbows braced on either side of you.

“I’m okay, Dean,” you said. “I’m here with you, safe and sound. All in one piece. Not even a bruise or a scrape.”

Slowly, the tension in Dean’s shoulders eased. He melted against you, hips settling between your knees, leaning into your hands.

“Are you sure about that?” he said, an edge of teasing in his tone. “Maybe I should check.”

He lifted the hem of your t-shirt, purposefully skimming his fingers over your exposed hip. You laughed softly and squirmed beneath him, hooking your ankles at the back of his thighs to keep him close. The more points of contact you had with Dean, the more you could keep him grounded, prevent those nightmares from rolling back in.

Dean pressed a warm, lingering kiss to your stomach, his thumb following the line of your waist. His eyes fluttered closed as he breathed in the faint scent of your skin - the gesture of a man who had found his sanctuary. 

You trailed your knuckles along Dean’s cheek and turned off the light. The night didn’t seem so endless now that you had anchored yourselves to each other.


End file.
